Judge — June 10, 1922 — page 29: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

hind him his catly ister Car- own ody ody and he all Mar airs = “See you've set up a new scarecrow in the cornfield?” “That ain't no scarecrow; that's the hired man.” to the hall and, returning, threw his late guest's coat and hat into the fur- nace. Then he carefully scrubbed the floor and threw mop and scrub brush into the furnace. It was done. A mad, wild blood lust filled Leister’s veins. It warmed his chilled body with a grateful warmth. It was a glorious fever. Leister grinned . . some grin. He had rid the earth of one of its human pestilences. No more would this predatory crea- ture, this fiend inhuman, in human masque, visit his dread repugnance on innocent households and _ innocent women. No more would he descend upon happy homes and afflict them with his accursed presence .. . leaving misery where once had reigned content. He had thrust his fingers for the last time in Leister’s tobacco jar. He had spread a Leister napkin for the last time upon his bony knec. He had finished, and the day was gone when private dinner parties were threatened by the visit of his unwelcomeness. Hundreds of motor trips had Car- mody taken. Never at the roadside inn or at the gasoline depot had one yet seen him, wallet in hand to meet the approaching bill. Never had he been seen with a pocketful of cigars. Not yet had a piratical coming of Car- mody found him in the hallway with ought but appetite. No candy and no flowers. No birthday gift nor token ever came. And Leister recalled with passion Carmody’s visit on Christmas last, in time for Christmas dinner, bearing— as should the donor of jewels—a bag of lemon drops for baby. Leister's joy rose to hysteria, hy- steria to madness. He filled a pint measure with his choicest brandy. He held it high and saluted the fuel bin. “Bon voyage,” he toasted— And drank it all. a ghastly, grew- Christmas It was only a dream I dreamed. But if you knew Carmody as I know him, you'd know the dream was the first and only thing he ever treated me to. THEY NEED IT A young college girl had given her services to help organize a class of children to be called “The King’s Heralds,” a rudimentary or kindergarten missionary so- ciety. The subject under discussion was personal prayer, and the teacher said: “Now, children, let us pray for those who have not some of the blessings that we have. Raise your hands and suggest for whom we should pray.” Eager bands went up and the voices called out: The homeless, the fatherless, the mother- less, and so on. Freckled _ little Frankie put up his hand and clamored for attention until the teacher, who was suspecting the worst, had to give him a hearing, and said sweetly: “Well, Frankie.” “Please, teacher, brainless.” I'll pray for the The true sportsman is the one who replaces the divots of lite. “Gesh’ll have t’ releesh ‘at bootlegger—evidensh sheems t’ dishappeared!” m Cw In Liquidation By George Mitchell CARE not if his love be true, His eyes may be both brown and blue; I do not ask for his caresses, Nor care a filbert how he dresses. But be he rich or be he poor, A man of brains or just a boor, The man I marry, take the tip, Must shake a mean and liquid hip. “Good gracious, man, but your heart is bad! and twenty a minute!” “That ain't my heart, doc; dollar watch in’ my vest pocket.” THE AGE LIMIT “So old Witherbee is to be married Is the bride very young?” again. “Young enough to know It’s going about a hundred hat'’s my better.” comicbooks.com